Chapter 221: The New Ye Zhetian Guild

The bamboo grove was emerald green, spiritual herbs glowing under a brilliant sun, all serene and beautiful.

"During your absence, Hei Huang repeatedly tested the edges of the herb garden, and three days ago he finally stepped into the trap," Ye Fan shook his sleeve, clasping his hands behind his back, his green robe making him look like a celestial immortal descended from heaven; he sighed, "Too bad—I thought he'd crack within a month, never expected him to hold out this long."

Before Ye Fan and Su Lin, a black dog taller than a man groaned in a thunderous spring, constantly rising and struggling in the water, just like a man drowning.

Besides the paste-like azure lightning, the spring held hundreds of sword qi as large as water jars, each radiating powerful light energy, nearly splitting space into distinct regions.

Even a Dragon Transformation cultivator who entered could not escape—only death awaited.

But this giant dog had thick skin and extraordinary defense; none of these attacks left a mark on his glossy black fur, only forcing him to howl in agony and endure constant pain.

"What's that in your hand?" Su Lin glanced at the small wooden bucket Ye Fan held; it emitted a strange fragrance, like dried spiritual fruit.

"Spice. Too bad—no use for it now," Ye Fan shook his head, seeming regretful that a legendary delicacy had slipped away. "I'm heading to Shengcheng soon. Want to come along?"

"Wouldn't I be the third wheel?" Su Lin bit into a spiritual fruit, its sweet-tart juice refreshing his senses. "I envy you—you've got beauties everywhere."

"I just wanted you as a bodyguard. But if you're that lonely, I'll go tie you up a Holy Maiden," Ye Fan raised an eyebrow.

"Skip it," Su Lin refused firmly—he knew Ye Fan was capable of this. He casually lifted the seal, allowing Hei Huang to escape the thunder spring.

"To be honest, I'm going to Shengcheng to make money," Ye Fan watched Hei Huang collapse on the ground, panting, and felt cheerful. "Rough stones, source veins, divine herbs—there are plenty of opportunities there. And along the way, we can expand the market. But I need your help."

"Why should I go expand the market? I'm not a shareholder of your guild," Su Lin asked, puzzled.

Why even need a market to sell fakes? Just set up a stall in any busy market—you'd sell them all.

"I can't show my face now—they've spread my portrait everywhere, stationed witnesses who've seen my divine power across all major regions. Newcomers to commerce must display divine power to verify identity," Ye Fan said helplessly, his tone tinged with bitterness and hardship. "The path is long and obstructed. Facing this malicious commercial suppression, I'm powerless."

"Then just don't show your face," Su Lin replied. This was simple—hire an agent.

But Ye Fan shook his head, turned his back to the blazing sun, and gazed at the vast sea of clouds surrounding Shuijing Peak.

"Our Ye Zhetian Guild has reached a bottleneck. Focusing solely on counterfeiting and low-level cultivators isn't sustainable—it won't maximize profits."

"We need to transform and upgrade—pursue high-quality development!"

"We need a powerful backer—a strong one unrelated to the Saint Body! Then we'll build our reputation with genuine, high-quality artifacts: from the Sea of Qi to the Dao Palace, from Dao Palace to the Four Extremes—we'll sell only real goods from now on."

"Once we've built enough credibility, we can target the Dragon Transformation and higher experts. Then hehe—"

Ye Fan reached out as if to grasp the blazing sun; though his figure was that of a young boy, he radiated an aura of swallowing mountains and rivers, holding the sun and moon in his grasp.

In a daze, Su Lin's fruit slipped from his hand and fell with a plop—he stared, dumbfounded, at Ye Fan's image like a commercial overlord.

"Uh…" Su Lin hesitated, then spoke. "Do you still remember your future direction?"

"Crush all enemies under heaven," Ye Fan replied. "What's wrong?"

"Isn't the future Heavenly Court supposed to be something other than a business company?"

"."

Su Lin had a feeling the tone of Ye Zhetian was slowly going off-track. Since Ye Fan embarked on the path of making money, he rarely killed anymore. Unless it was a deep grudge or someone actively hunting him, he'd usually spare the disciples of holy sects and noble clans.

In his words, they were all premium suckers.

Ye Fan didn't dwell long on the question—he wouldn't overthink Su Lin's query: "I don't care about the future. What I experience now is real."

"Even if the future me can rewind time and annihilate countless worlds in a thought—he is me, but I am not him."

"All I can do is seize the present. I won't fantasize about future achievements. Invincibility isn't waited for—it's walked into step by step."

Su Lin sighed. No wonder he was the protagonist of this era—such a Dao heart was beyond ordinary mortals.

"More importantly, if you don't make money, you're an idiot. Why fight those bastards when I can just lie down and earn?" Ye Fan sneered.

"They love killing geniuses—especially geniuses not on their side."

"After thousands of years of life, they learned nothing but four words: bully the weak, fear the strong."

"In a holy sect, from living Buddhas and holy mothers down to thugs and ruffians—all are present. The master leads you through the gate, but your character is your own."

Su Lin nodded. "True. The culture here is terrible."

Hearing Su Lin mention culture, Ye Fan's anger flared.

"Do you know how I feel watching Ye Zhetian? Fighting, fighting, fighting—still fighting! I'm f***ing tired of it!"

From the Sea of Qi to the Emperor Realm, everyone's favorite pastime was fighting.

"But my aesthetic doesn't match yours here—will it work?" Su Lin knew Earth's Ye Zhetian had its own church, with believers and "let there be light" types, but even those were still part of this world's system.

"There are plenty with different aesthetics," Ye Fan smiled—it wasn't even an issue. "Which of the ancient beast clans' descendants doesn't have a weird style? It's just different Dao paths."

Su Lin thought it over, then agreed. "Fine."

His Light God avatar's strength was roughly between Saint and Saint King—he couldn't be sure if he could win, but the Ancient Royal Clans hadn't emerged yet, and the old monsters rarely showed themselves. The risk was low.

"Hei Huang!" Ye Fan tossed the bucket of spice aside and called out. "Bring out your formation patterns. Offer them to the Emperor."

Hei Huang lifted his head weakly, glanced at Ye Fan, then closed his eyes and ignored him completely—dogs wouldn't even deal with this guy. He was trying to exploit the Emperor!

"Will Weigong Shilang come too?" Su Lin asked.

"I gave him leave—he's going back home," Ye Fan said. Seeing Su Lin's surprised look, he sighed. "I'm not a devil capitalist. Do you really think I enforce a 7x4 work schedule?"

Su Lin exclaimed, "Isn't that what you do?"

"."

Ye Fan didn't want to argue further. He changed the subject: "He should rest. If conditions don't allow, fine—but if they do, returning to familiar people helps relieve stress better."

"You're really letting him go?" Hei Huang pushed himself up, swaying to his feet. "I heard that kid mention—his world has dangers. What if something happens to him?"

He's a walking source-stone mine! This kid's too careless—what if he gets kidnapped halfway?

"No." Hei Huang shook himself and dashed off. "I must engrave formation patterns on him!"

"Don't you dare!" Ye Fan knew this black dog was just using it as an excuse to escape.

After all, Su Lin was right there. Once the dog regained strength, he feared Su Lin would hold him accountable—so he ran off on all four legs, with a flash of teleportation.

"Are you going home?" Ma Xianhong held a precise component before his right eye, minutely carving a light dot no bigger than a grain of rice onto its surface.

This was Jianfeng. Since Ye Fan brought back Shuijing Peak from Su Lin, Weigong Shilang and Ma Xianhong had lived in seclusion here.

Aside from occasional outings to cities where cultivators gathered, the two rarely left their rooms, focusing on alchemy and cultivation.

The materials for crafting artifacts and daily resources were more than sufficient; Ye Fan and Heihuang often came over to guide them in cultivation matters.

"Hmm, I'll be back in about two days." Before Weigong Shilang lay a copy of *Shenji Bai Lian*; with both hands, he followed its methods to refine a small object.

Zilaa

Amid a puff of black smoke, the small object was completely ruined.

Ma Xianhong placed the precision component at the center of a greenish hexagonal cube; spiritual resonance began to leak from the artifact's seams.

"Two days is enough; too long might invite accidents." Weigong Shilang glanced at the object in his hand and tossed it into the pile of scrap nearby.

Ma Xianhong set the artifact on the jade table, walked over to the scrap pile, picked up several of Weigong Shilang's recent creations, and said in a low voice:

"You're tired. You need proper rest."

He reached out, snatched a new material from Weigong Shilang's hand, and placed it aside.

"Sorry." Weigong Shilang exhaled, closing the *Shenji Bai Lian* manual.

"You don't need to apologize—the materials aren't mine." Ma Xianhong frowned. "You don't have to push yourself this hard."

He indeed had some talent; Ma Xianhong had to admit that. Combined with his peculiar skill, Projection Magic, he would surely achieve great things in the Art of Artifact Crafting.

Though he was from Dongying, after months of interaction and understanding, Ma Xianhong felt no aversion toward Weigong Shilang—on the contrary, he held a certain fondness for him; he liked the man's character.

At least he was better than that sneaky bastard Zhang Chuyan, who sold him out here.

The only problem was, this man pushed himself too hard.

While an Artifact Crafter might go days without food, sleep, or rest when inspired, it was truly unwise for someone still in the learning phase to exhaust himself so mercilessly.

Ma Xianhong could see it wasn't driven by thirst for knowledge or passionate love for crafting—it was merely a desperate burning of himself to achieve a goal.

"Go back and rest properly." Ma Xianhong turned and summoned Ru Hua, instructing her to take away all the finished items.

"Where's my Kong Hu?"

Ma Xianhong wandered around nearby but couldn't find his small lion-head artifact.

Weigong Shilang rubbed his brow. "You weren't here when Xiao Nannan came to visit two days ago. Heihuang took it and gave it to her."

"Oh." Ma Xianhong nodded. If that lovely little girl wanted it, let her have it—he could just craft another.

"Ye Fan gave us time off. Aren't you going back for a visit?" Weigong Shilang said to Ma Xianhong.

Preparing for the new shop's opening was the biggest project; daily orders were nowhere near as demanding as the preparations for the launch.

"Go back? I have no place to return to." Ma Xianhong picked up a black iron hammer and walked toward the furnace to begin his next task; the crisp clang of metal rang out repeatedly.

While Weigong Shilang stood stunned, Ma Xianhong continued:

"I was used by Qu Tong to forge the Xiushen Furnace, to help recover my lost memories."

"But in the end, I discovered my past had been altered by Shuangquan Shou—Qu Tong wasn't my sister. So where would I go if I returned?"

"My great-grandfather and grandfather were both hunted down for the Eight Marvelous Techniques; only I remain of this lineage."

Weigong Shilang finally realized he had touched upon the man's wound; he lowered his head slightly. "Sorry."

"Don't keep saying sorry." Ma Xianhong stopped his work and looked at Weigong Shilang. "For me, I've already accepted all of this. Your situation isn't any easier than mine."

"Alright, I'll go pack my things first." Weigong Shilang nodded. "See you."

As Weigong Shilang was about to step out the door, Ma Xianhong called out: "Do you have a dream, Weigong Shilang?"

Weigong Shilang was surprised, but turned and answered seriously: "I want to become a partner of justice."

"A partner of justice? That's admirable." Ma Xianhong nodded. "My ideal is to erase the gap between Yiren and ordinary people—to teach without distinction."

"A Yiren named Wang Ye once told me my destiny was too humble, my ambitions too great—I couldn't bear such a lofty goal."

"But I don't believe that. Success lies in man; planning lies in Heaven. If everything were predetermined by destiny, what would be the point?"

"My memories may be false—but my dream is undeniably real!"

Weigong Shilang didn't understand why Ma Xianhong suddenly brought up dreams. When Ma Xianhong first arrived, he often sat on rocks or rooftops, staring blankly at the stars, utterly inscrutable—he had seemed like a void vortex.

But now, for the first time in months, Weigong Shilang saw such a brilliant light in Ma Xianhong's eyes—as if a blazing fire were burning within.

"Heh, just ignore me—I was talking to myself." Ma Xianhong waved his hand and resumed his next task. "Go pack quickly."

"Thank you." Weigong Shilang turned and left; a suspended longsword in its scabbard flew from the wall into his hand—it was his first self-crafted artifact. He slung it on his back and closed the door to the Artifact Crafting Chamber.

End of Chapter